Purgatory Theory Fifteen
by F You Capslock
Summary: You only live once, right? Edd would firmly disagree. Will eventually be multichaptered, Edd/Marie.
1. Chapter 1

Fifteen, an Ed Edd and Eddy FF \ Supernatural/ Drama; Edd/ Marie

_First in a series, written around the Purgatory Theory wandering around on the web that I didn't come up with, and proceeded to shamelessly alter. _

_I'm a fangirl, I can do that. True story. _

_Check out Marilyn Manson's _Fifteen, _on his cd_, 'The High End of Low,' _which is what inspired this piece of brain vomit. _

_Yesterday everything I believed in died... But today is my birthday... _

Fifteen. A magical age, truly.

Edd whimpered softly from where he was curled up on the floor, blinking until the spots more or less cleared from his eyes and his stomach stopped trying to tie itself into knots. Fingers twitched limply to his right, attached to hands, arms that refused to respond properly, but at least he could still tell they were there... He ended up brushing the wood with his knuckles, but not really feeling anything; instead reaching for some unseen objective.

He was dead, he had to be.

He took the moment just to breathe, marveling at the paradox and hating himself for thinking of something like that at the moment. His bad habit, his hubris, was behaving as though this was all a mostly harmless science project, and even now it might kill him... He managed to push himself up on wobbly arms to shift his position so as to press his back to the wall…Though he prided himself on not letting it happen very often, that was just how he dealt with things he couldn't grasp outright. Make it into a problem, quantify it... Give it the possibility of a solution.

So, if he _was _already dead, it wasn't like he hadn't had his suspicions.

He _had_ died once before, after all; between his father's stories and the past two years of more often on, less often off dreams, er, _nightmares_, there had to be something to the idea... 1986, house catches fire. An open gas line, presumably so for repairs, explodes, takes out half the city block, and suburbia is scarred forever. Fifteen year old Eddward Marion Hatch is sadly incinerated (or simply expired of smoke inhalation, father had been annoyingly unspecific. Still, dead was still dead to Eddward), not that anyone really knew he existed in the first place, (he had been a tad of a recluse, apparently) and therefore could care. Would care.

_...Fuck._

Even though it hurt (everything hurt, really, at this point), he curled even tighter on himself, trying to will away the hateful thoughts and managing to fail miserably. _So melodramatic..._ So he was bitter, what of it? He was technically dead because of some totally freak accident. He was entitled, right?

_Freak._ Almost in response to this violent mental snarl, another white-hot, violent spasm of pain tore through him, a bolt of electricity seemingly passing through his heart to his shoulders and back, leaving the kid choking and gasping, but mostly just exhausted and suddenly angrier than all hell. **Hell**_, ha ha..._ Hate wasn't a word strong enough for the normally pacifistic Edd, when he or his friends were associated with... with _that_ word.

Freak.

But... That's what he was, right? As far as he could remember, which admittedly wasn't that great at the moment, he was the only one of the cul-de-sac's kids who had any idea this wasn't the 'real' Peach Creek. Not that he knew the specifics of each of them... But not that he cared to, either. He was smart enough to know that. He blinked, starting to feel dizzy again and instantly thankful he was already more or less drooling from his sprawled position on the floor... _Whatever version of things they were on now, anyway, damn Asmodeus.._. Letting his thoughts drift to his friends let him keep a grasp on himself, let him ignore his own choppy breathing, the stupid, crippling pain that had come from nowhere. _Keeping Eddy and Ed's company was as likely as not to afford the same social ostracism as his own self-inflicted one_, come to think of it... Not that he had ever minded. Really, he hadn't, even before he had found out about... all this.

_I actually have friends here._ And he may have just imagined it, but the pressure on his chest gave a bit at that thought. If he was dead, he didn't regret any of it, all the time he had spent with the other Eds. Friends he knew well enough to trust to beat on his door until he woke up at some ungodly hour on a snowy Saturday morning, use the key he'd seen fit to trust at least Eddy with what had to have been ages ago and let himself in... Friends, who forgave each other for their faults, or at least ignored them enough that it amounted to the same thing.

He shivered, eyes drifting, unfocused.

Or... Maybe in some universe more real than this one he was just utterly insane and all of this really was in his head, his body locked in a padded room somewhere, having to be force-fed pills or he'd bite off the doctor's hand- _The creatures, the sticky notes... _Gods knew he was neurotic enough to cover the bases without having to throw this supernatural stuff into the mix.

Not a terribly likely scenario, but still a possibility.

He tried it out in the back of his head, clearly out of it; _I am crazy, I am insane._ I am hopelessly neurotic, my parents are literally demons that communicate via sticky notes... Despite the pain, he felt himself snort with laughter at that. Yep, crazy.

_I'm dead... _

And, oh, yeah, _this_ little episode was certainly not going to help anything... _If_ he survived whatever _it_ was turning out to be, which had turned out to be something very rude, by the by, what with trying to kill him and all...

Gods, maybe he really was crazy.

The weight that had been steadily building on his chest over however long he had been lying there (it felt like hours but could very well have been twenty minutes, hard to say in this empty house's damnable silence) abruptly increased, if it were possible, sending Edd into a wheezing coughing fit that threatened to break what was left of him into a thousand pieces... He choked out a full-on sob, focusing just on breathing until the pain had subsided to the point where it just made his ears ring and the rest of him want to puke everything he'd so much as _considered_ eating in the last decade. But this eventually ebbed away, or he may have just passed out again, either way leaving him drained, sinking into the living room carpet...

He hadn't expected to die at fifteen, much less for a second time. In a daze, Edd considered this briefly before the rest of him collapsed, his head dropping to the floor with a dull thud, the only noise in his otherwise silent home.

A/N:

_Er, yeah. Relax, Double D isn't really dead, per se... Well, its complicated. _

_I can't see the Eds as adults, kind of the same way I could never see Dib growing up for one reason or another. It's sad, I guess. _


	2. Chapter 2

Fourteen, an Ed Edd and Eddy Fanfic

A/N: _Have to post the next few chapters at once, or the story won't make as much sense; ie. Make it look like a complete cop-out on my part, blahblahblah, whatever. _

_Forgot the stupid disclaimer: Ed Edd and Eddy ain't mine, all three kids belong to Danny Antonnucci and Canada. Canadians are weird. (Like I have any room to talk...) _

_xxxx_

_Leaving me alone to die is worse than having the guts to kill me..._

**Poke.**

**Poke.** This time a bit harder against his forehead, accompanied by a snigger and a muffled snort. No response other than a forehead twitch-

**PokePokePoke.** Double D finally twitched, shifted from his semi-comfortable position on the grass-

"OI, SOCKHEAD!"

Edd physically jerked up into a sitting position, but consciousness was half a second late. This amounted to giving him just long enough to let out half of his customary, "Good Lord!" before, along with a good amount of dirt and sand, he was scooped up and unceremoniously tossed into the creek by the tallest, sniggering Ed.

There was a loud splash and then silence for a few shocked seconds, and then a very wet, _very miffed_ fourteen-year old's head broke the water's surface. To (big surprise), both Ed and Eddy, howling in laughter from the bank. All while the now-shortest Ed flailed and spat freezing creek water.

_Figures. _

"_Eddy_!" Double D managed to choke out at least part of an annoyed protest, though ultimately forced into setting his vocal irritation aside after inadvertantly taking a lungful of water and really drowning himself. _Embarrassing..._ The creek couldn't have been more than five or six feet deep where he had been thrown in, and he didn't look it (_at all_), but he was a functional swimmer.

Necessity worked in strange ways.

Taking a breath that managed to chill the rest of him, Edd tried to find the bottom of the creek with his toes. "You shoulda seen your face!" Eddy, doubled over and snickering, gasped for breath; from appearances he looked as though about to pass out from laughing so hard. _Gnarr... _Ed had joined in, though in a half-hearted, distracted way.

"I'm glad the two of you found that so humorous." Though he mentioned the both of them, the comment was mainly directed at Eddy. Not that it would have any affect; while they both knew Eddy was perceptive enough to pick up on his friend's sarcasm, Double D's theory was that he just didn't let it bother him.

So Edd rolled his eyes, teeth chattering and feeling snarky as he tread the surprisingly deep water. Aside from the dubious cleanliness of said water and the abrupt (and frankly rude) wake-up call, he really couldn't muster the energy to be more than mildly irritated at the both of them: it was an unspoken rule that if you fell asleep out in the open like that you were basically fair game. Which Eddy would no doubt remind him of until the end of time... An unelegant few breaststrokes later found him within feet of the bank and able to touch the smoothed stones of the creek-bed with his toes.

The little voice in the back of his head that still screamed _unclean_ he was able to silence with a firm mental order to _shut up_. So much for 'mild irritation.'

"Oh come on, Sockhead." Eddy held out hand with a cocky grin firmly in place; a split second of deliberation passed and with one hand on the top of is head to keep his sodden hat in place, Double D accepted the assistance, sloshing back onto mostly dry land and crossing his arms over his chest and trying not to shiver. It might have been the beginning of summer, but the water was still as bitterly cold as it had been all spring. Hence his preference to simply sunbathe (a laughable concept, the closest he'd been to getting anything approaching a tan had been two years ago and he'd looked like a boiled lobster for two weeks) until he dozed off, and his _dear friends _decided to toss him in the creek anyway. "Lighten up, yeah?"

Edd looked over his shoulder at him, eyebrow cocked in an approximation of, 'oh, really?' Glancing past him to Ed, he absently adjusted his black hat a bit with one hand as the other squeezed creek water from his clothes. _Squelchysquelchysquelchy... _Out of the three, Eddy was the only one really dressed for taking a dip, sporting the most gods-awful yellow swim trunks Edd had been forced to lay eyes on. Double D vaguely remembered telling him so at some point, not that he'd listened, of course... Par for the course, really, considering how Eddy rarely took his suggestions seriously, unless it was related to a scam or attempting to talk him into something the stocky loudmouth wanted to do anyway.

Edd smiled tightly at the thought, squeezing more water out of his shirt. Few could really appreciate just how easy it was to, well, not _manipulate_ Eddy, the word had entirely the wrong connotations... Still, he had found that all he had to do was phrase it right, make it seem like the idea was Eddy's own...

Even for something as simple as learning to swim.

Really, as often as Eddy's schemes involved use of the creek in some way or another, it had come as something as a shock to find Eddy _couldn't, _at least up to a year ago... Not that Eddy's pride would ever let him admit it to Double D, no, that information had come in one of his Father's notorious green stickies.

So when Eddward had asked Ed to teach him through any means necessary, it wasn't him being neurotic or paranoid. No, he was just being a good friend.

Nevertheless, of all the hairbrained schemes he had been asked/coerced/decided to engage on his own, this _specifically _had turned out to almost be more trouble than it was worth. Eddy could be incredibly stubborn, prideful... In fact, it was only thanks to those qualities that Edd had been able to get him to agree to do it. But after what Father had let _accidentally_ drop between the two of them regarding his friend on his birthday last year, Edd had decided it was absolutely necessary. Even if the reasoning wasn't anything more than hypothetical, or would even be ultimately effective...

_Early 1924. Peach Creek had thawed earlier that year thanks to the early onset of spring... Not that that had been at the forefront of Eddy's mind when he had been trying to escape the angry mob out for his hide... _

Edd shivered, very much doubting it had anything to do with the temperature. There were an awful lot of ways to die as a kid, after all. If he could help protect his friend from _that_ one, though...

Double D shook his head to scatter his progressively dark thoughts; a quick glance informed him that,no, his friends were none the wiser of his momentary mental absence. It was difficult to set it aside, but worrying about something that may not even happen here was not the reason he and the others were out here, after all.

A sudden idea struck Edd as soon as he had shaken off the other, his hand falling to his hip as he considered the distance, Eddy's proximity...Ed, who was now focused entirely, or what passed for it with the oaf, on building a fortress out of sand and dirt, glanced up as if feeling a change in the winds.

_Why not, you only live once... _

"Eddy, you do realize turnabout is fair play?"

"Turna-whatawhat?" Double D took a moment to look at his stockier, confused friend with an apolegetic smile, bolting forward with an incoherent shriek and grabbing a startled Eddy's arm, locking at the elbow and dragging him forward (it only really worked since he was off balance to begin with) - and launching the three of them off the bank, into space in gravity-defying free-fall (okay, it was for all of about four feet, but _still_)...

And then minutes or seconds later, Edd couldn't be sure, but Ed had him by the collar of his shirt and Eddy by his hair, hauling them both roughly up above the waterline so he could cough and sputter and generally avoid looking in either boys' direction for a few more seconds. At least Ed was laughing.

Drenched _again_ and shivering pathetically, Double D didn't really try to make sense of what had just happened. That was what childhood was supposed to be about, right? Trying to drown your not entirely-undeserving friends in a creek, when you should have outgrown the urge years ago.

"So, yes." Despite that, Eddward's cheeks blistered a bright red under what he imagined to be his friend's scrutinizing gaze. Though in all fairness it may have just been from the cold.

In retrospect, he really should have expected the tackle and dunk from a laughing Eddy as soon as Ed let them go...

A/N:

_Its the stupid little things that stand out when you look back on your childhood. Here Edd starts to come to terms with the fact he won't always be there to protect his friends- and sometimes it's healthier all around if things are left as is just to happen. _

_Also... * Snort * Necessity may work in strange ways, but so apparently does artistic and literary license. Whatever, it fits the story. _

_Not as good as it could have been, but a week's long enough to stare/ obsess over something. I might rewrite it later. _


	3. Chapter 3

Fifteen, an Ed Edd and Eddy fan fiction

Chapter Three: Butterflies

A/N:

_Going to hell, going to hell... I'm _so_ going to hell..._

_Not Ed/ Edd slash. Also, probably the closest to angst this will get, hopefully. _

_Nix what I said about updating, I'll post 'em when I get 'em done. (is shot) I'm sorry, but being out of town and dealing with shitty Internet for three weeks does not bode well for one's update schedule. Also, I am currently sick as hell, so if I missed anything or if something doesn't make sense, its either part of the story or this godawful cold. Let me know either way and I'll fix it. _

_Ugh, this is the last bit of back-story before the real story takes off. Thanks to everyone for being so patient... And for the great reviews! It'll be worth it, I promise. _

_xxxx_

**Exit now. All unsaved changes will be lost. **

_You can't save them, Eddward. They're already lost- time just has yet to catch up with them._ Father's tone had been kind, but his son's memory of the words was still bitter.

Edd bit back the tears that sprang from nowhere, wiping his eyes with a sleeve just to be sure. Sighed quietly, sagging so his forehead bumped his drawn-up knees... It was getting cold out, closer to evening; he hadn't seen Eddy all day for some reason, but the shorter boy really did have the worst timing. Wouldn't do for him to see him upset like this, Edd wasn't sure if he could adequately explain it away if pressed.

_Freak._ That's what Kevin had called him. Like it was a step up from 'dork' or any of the other names the other cul de sac kids had found it suitable to label him or his friends with.

He tugged his beanie a bit lower down over his forehead, using his forearm to block the sun that managed to penetrate the tree's branches above him. Not that it mattered. It shouldn't have mattered, since when did he care what _Kevin_ of all people thought of him? Stupid.

Still hurt, though, if he was entirely honest. Which of course he was, even and especially to himself.

Pushing his protesting back up against the tree trunk, he closed his eyes. It was quiet out here and as long as he didn't fall asleep...

_Humans are fickle_, he decided, still confused. And annoying. If he were a different person, Kevin would be bowing to him over, yanno, using him as a punching bag every other day, or hiding in the woods so that no one would see him get so upset over nothing... Then again, if he were a different person he wouldn't let Eddy fast-talk him into things he knew weren't going to end well... Because most of what happened _was_ largely Eddy's fault, not that he was exactly blameless...

_So what was it_? A thoroughly misguided attempt to make sure Eddy didn't kill himself or Ed or anyone else when his scams went south (as was more often then not the case), or maybe it was just a weird sense of masochism, where at least with the freaks he belonged? He had to remind himself sometimes that Eddy had died decades ago, as had Ed... Peach Creek was nothing but a shadow, full of spirits who had expired before their time. Father had explained without really explaining, but Edd had gotten the gist of it: all that were left were stereotypes, residual memories played out to fight death and the loss of one's childhood. Kevin, the jock. Nazz, the resident object of every male in the cul-de-sac's fantasies...

... Even himself, as was very likely the case.

He shook is head, forcing the thought away with some effort. So, was it pity, then? Something as pathetic as loneliness, where instead of being a real boy he just wanted to be accepted by them?

He had never shared Father's attitude about this place, nor its inhabitants (well, maybe the Kankers); sometimes he wondered if he was _this way _because of his friends, those he pointedly chose to be around. Edd could hate his father for his ability to separate himself from what mattered... But that was too convenient; Lord Belphegor was kind, insofar as most of Edd's relatives were concerned. Still, his father was not known for his psychological attachments, a trait his son had not inherited. He hoped.

Edd still had vague memories of the house, the unsettling feeling of being trapped... The sickness that had slowly eaten at him as his sanity slipped further and further, until the outside was what had to be guarded against... Until the heat, fire had finally let him go.

_...Maybe that is why Father has left me here. _

The boy shivered, burying his head in his arms again as he tried not to cry. He hated it when his mind went places it really had no business...

A stumbling crack from nearby got his attention in a heartbeat, jerking his head up. Irrationally terrified for a second that Eddy had managed to find him; he had half a mind to get to his feet, tempted to just turn tail and run.

_Pathetic_. He paused; what kind of demon was he that jumped at every little noise out in the woods?

… _A smart one, considering what else is probably out here… _

He froze, his heart lifting a bit when he recognized Ed's voice call for him. "Double D!" The taller Ed held the last part of his nickname a bit longer than absolutely necessary, his sing-song, lilting voice causing several irritated birds to take flight in protest.

"Ed..."

"You seemed so upset earlier. Did you not have a good birthday, Double D?" He nudged his smaller friend with his shoulder as he joined him, sitting on the grass under the old tree.

Double D took a breath to steady himself, ashamed that his smile was so forced. "Hello, Ed." Being mad because he had no idea _who_ to be mad about was no reason for him to not be the very picture of politeness, or take out his frustrations on Ed. Even if he _was_ a little too close... _What I'm angry about isn't his fault, anyway_.

Edd leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, focusing his attention on the tallest of their trio. For once his mind was utterly blank, and for a second, just one, he considered not saying anything at all. As insufferably rude as that would have been...

Ed crouched noisily in front of him, it taking a second for Edd to realize the taller boy's hands were cupped, held out, inches from his face.

Ed's filthy hands. _Inches from his face_.

Edd jerked back so that the back of his head hit the tree (later he would insist by instinct, anyone would freak out about something being abruptly thrust in his face, he wasn't being rude, nope)-

Fortunately Ed didn't seem to take offense to his friend's initial reaction, as excited as he was. "Eddy told me to, um, 'find Sockhead.' And I did, so now I can give him his birthday present." Ed nothing short of beamed, again holding out his hands and giggling. "It tickles... I hope you like it, Double D." And taking one of his hands before Edd could protest, Ed tipped a bright yellow, slightly-rumpled butterfly into his palm.

Edd gave a small gasp; he couldn't help it. His eyes lit up, watching the tiny insect right itself, antennae tasting the air.

"Then... you like it?"

Double D just smiled at him, his hands still cupped as the creature's slender legs tapped his palms, fanning its wings. It beat its wings once, as if testing them, and then flitted up to both boys' eye level. "It's beautiful, Ed." And Double D honestly meant it, Ed's cheeks reddening as he grinned unabashedly from the praise.

And then Ed had him by his wrist, tugging him gently to his feet. "I wanna show you something special, Double D," Ed explained at his friend's expression, and Edd found himself letting his body get pulled along for the ride, interest piqued.

They didn't have to go very far, apparently, stopping at the edge of the clearing. Evening was visibly settling in with the setting sun, and Edd's breath caught in his throat, noticing with some trepidation how everything had gone very silent...

And then as if by some invisible, silent cue, what had to be thousands _upon thousands_ of the beautiful insects simultaneously took flight, their beating wings turning the clearing as bright as morning with bright yellows and deep blues, oranges...

"Whoa..." Edd's voice was a whisper, but his smile, the one Ed had longed to see, spoke volumes. Ed thought his friend's response summed it up pretty well, and seeing his smile just made it that much better.

And if Eddward had to later pinpoint a moment, it would be here when he came to his epiphany:_ Ed was real_, his kind, sweet Ed. Whether it was this version of him like Father had insinuated or something else, _it didn't matter_.

_It didn't matter._ Double D sniffled a little, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. What was real was _now_, when he was _here _with Ed. That was what mattered.

Ed's arms engulfed his smaller friend, trembling a bit from trying not to cry himself. Why was Double D upset? He had just wanted to see him smile again, wish him a happy birthday... Still, he didn't move, simply standing there for as long as Double D needed him to.

After a minute or so, Double D stopped shaking so badly and Ed could hear him speak. "I-I'm sorry, Ed." Double D's raspy voice was soft, muffled from speaking into his shirt. Apologized again and again, because what else could he do? None of this was Ed's fault, or Eddy's, even. _Or his own_, he had to remember that... Edd forced himself to step back, dropping his shaking hands to take Ed's much larger ones in his own, finally looking up at his friend, who was still looking perplexed and fighting tears. "Thank you, Ed," and Double D was relieved to find his voice steady, or at least steady enough... "Please don't cry... I'm very touched," and at least about that he wasn't lying. "Thank you for showing them to me, they were beautiful."

Inside, though, his stomach had plummeted. Two years, according to Father, that was all. Could he really do this for two more years?

Ed's hand met his shoulder, as much a reassurance for him as it was for the big guy himself. Double D shook his head, and the smile he gave Ed didn't feel so forced this time. Even few and far between, little moments like this would make it worth it. Father wouldn't let this go on unless he had a plan...

Right?

Ed beamed, happily oblivious. "Happy thirteenth birthday, Double D."

A/N:

_How would you react to finding out you and your best friends were already dead? Poor confused Edd... If I overdid it, let me know._

_Also... Lord Belphegor is the demon of invention, as well as other things. Thought it was appropriate. _

_Read, review, tell me how much this sucks..._


	4. Chapter 4

1986; An Ed Edd and Eddy FF

A/N:

_Things start to pick up in this chapter, and Double D's sanity becomes really questionable. _

_Xxx Present? Day _

0648. Edd's eyes flickered over to the alarm clock on his desk for the forth time in fifteen minutes, jotting down a last-minute note in the small notebook in his palm. The old clock was one that he'd had for ages, but this one was important to him, Father had given it to him three years ago almost to the day.

**Talk to any walls, lately? **

Eddward sighed, setting his pencil down; it seemed even his own bedroom could no longer provide the sanctity he had always expected of it. He'd known this was going to happen eventually, but any visit by a Kanker had historically not bode well.

"Marie."

His blue-haired stalker sniggered, but without her usual humor. "Always know how to greet a lady, doncha, Double D." She scowled at his back, noting after a second the absence of his hat. Noted, but said nothing. "Anyway, you're up early. Usually seven for Mister Punctual, right?"

Edd nodded in what was supposed to be an offhand, side-to-side swaying motion, closing his notebook with a snap. "I keep going over everything that happened, looking for clues... I have to ask, what changed, Marie?"

She snorted, crossing her arms. "Besides everything? You changed the rules, well, you and Ed, but you knew the consequences more than Ed, so...Yanno."

0652.

"Asmodeus wants to shut this place down, and your father can't bail us out anymore. If any of them fail, Lilith stands a chance of getting back in, and death will look like a kindness if that happens."

"I know." The growl was low and dangerous, not something she was accustomed to from the fifteen year old male.

0656.

"Not all of us are twelve years old, anymore, Double D," Marie pointed out quietly. "My sisters aren't really themselves. I mean, not that they particularly were to start out with, but still... Your mom's lost it, by the way." The last bit was spoken with the air of a throwaway comment, but Edd still picked up on its significance. Or lack of, judging by his shrug, his back still to her.

"Mother doesn't have the best sense of humor," he finally offered, considering his words carefully. To be honest, Lilith didn't exactly have anything approaching sanity, either. And by extension, he supposed even now he didn't either.

His wrist watch's alarm went off in the ensuing silence between them. Almost angrily, Edd tapped the device absently and it fell silent.

0703.

Marie showed much less discretion, apparently still wanting to rant. "The woman is bent, she's had this weird fixation on Eddy since he died the first time. The rules are changing, Double D." Marie's significant look, currently boring through the back of her not-completely-unwilling-boyfriend's head, was not lost on Edd.

He tried to literally wave off her accusations; they were nothing he didn't already know or at least suspect, absently flipping through a stack of papers arranged on the desk with his thumb. "If I hadn't acted, some way or another this would've happened anyway." Yeah, he could tell himself that, which apparently was Marie's view on the matter, as evidenced when she proceeded to go off on him:

"You put us all at risk for a soul. ONE CORRUPT SOUL, Double D." She poked him hard in the back with every half-screamed word, and turned. She leaned in over him, hands gripping the shoulders of his chair in a vice grip, twisting into claws... And then her expression shifted, softened a bit after a moment into the flicker of a smile. "Its not that I don't approve, yanno, in principle- but it's _Eddy_, for the gods' sakes."

Anger flared up in the taller fifteen year old and he was on his feet in a second, facing the blue-haired Marie with nothing short of a snarl, " I am_ not _my father, Marie." The reminder was bitter for the both of them.

0708.

Marie took a respectful step back, but if he was hoping for a response other than her patented leer, he was going to be very disappointed. "Of course not, I'm just curious how long you expected to get away with it, is all. _Prince_."

He scowled at her pet name for him, as annoying as it was technically inaccurate. _You can't save them_, his father had said. He clenched his fists at his sides, remembering his father's 'warning' well.

_Three years..._ He deflated a bit at the depressing thought but decided not to comment, instead visibly twitching at the old nickname. Marie smirked inwardly; it was so nice to know that all she had to do was say one word and she could still get this much of a response... "Will you do me a favor, Marie?" He didn't wait for her response, not that he really expected one. To his own mildly-disturbed shock, he chuckled... "Please let Ed know that I'm sorry, I seem to have run out of time..." Of course he had run out of time, he never had enough time... "I'll have to meet him later...

And Marie? Don't let him near the house."

If this was odd request Marie gave no indication, merely shrugging and giving a slight bow, disappearing into the wallpaper again in a huff.

0713. Still standing, staring idly at the wall, Edd's alarm clock went off a few seconds later, heard only by the room's sole occupant.

Xxx ?

0700.

Eddward blinked, staring at the far wall for a few seconds, enough time to take stock of where he was and little more. Methodically he took in the yellowing sunlight that peeked through his drawn blinds, that hit the bookcases against the far wall. He glanced down at his arms, the long sleeved shirt that covered them, and at the writing table he must've fallen asleep at again, groaning in muted protest at the familiar soreness in his lower back and neck when he stretched... Insomnia was an old, dear (and obnoxious) friend, curses to it.

Still half asleep, his eyes automatically flickered back over the papers and open notebook covered in his tidy scrawl, scratching the back of his head with the eraser of his pencil as he looked the contents over. Yes, Father would be very pleased with his findings, theoretical as they were... There was still more to do, but he was very close- he had to make sure the proposal was perfect this time, as Father expected nothing less and Eddward was determined not to disappoint.

A strong rumble of his stomach alerted him to the more mortal requirements of his current position. The irritating necessities of eating, bathing... Keeping the house clean... Absently checking the short, black ponytail at the nape of his neck, he mentally switched over to the daily list of tasks he was to perform as he had made a routine for years now, setting aside the small notebook for the time being in his jeans' back pocket.

0702. For some reason his eyes fell again on his alarm clock, a bulky machine with red block numbers. The light from his blinds made the numbers difficult to make out, but a hand over the light source and squinting at it did the trick. (I just wanted to make him proud of me. I never saw any of this as a problem, as odd or peculiar... Besides, who did I have to ask? ) There was a rumble outside, the creak of distant heavy machinery... As soon as it entered his mind he pushed it away. Outside was outside, in here were chores...

There were a series of locks mounted to the inside of the door, a deadbolt, two combinations and a key, but Edd had made a ritual out of this, as well. (I can't remember specifically when it started to be like this. Just that suddenly it was a terrifying prospect for t_he outside to get in_, and then what would I do?) The key chain on his wrist chinked once and the door creaked open. He closed it quickly behind him with a soft click, letting out a soft sigh, the breath he had unconsciously been holding.

0707. The house was silent, as per usual, but he was used to that, the perpetual buzzing in his ears of pure nothingness, because it wasn't _nothing-_ Father was always listening, or so he had told himself so long ago. And when he finalized his project in a couple of days, they would speak in person!

(Paranoia... Anxiety... Sociophobia... 'D' all the above... I _was_ crazy, wasn't I? Whether or not the voices were real, the ones that whispered statistics and the weight of beryllium at odd hours; the ones that _dictated the necessity of four locks _to keep me hidden from the world...)

He took the stairs down two at a time, floorboards creaking under his slight weight. The normally-spotless house was dark, as it was unless Eddward was personally using one of the rooms; except for his father's infrequent visits, it wasn't like anyone but Eddward actually lived there. (This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, if three years could be considered temporary...)

0711.

On entering the kitchen, he flipped the light switch and made his way to the sink and calendar above it, marking a red slash through that Thursday. He smiled at the sticky note attached, the yellow paper reminding him that, yes, today was June 12th, 1986- his fifteenth birthday, by current measurement. He frowned, realizing there was another sticky next to it, this one green. Despite that the shorthand chicken-scratch writing looked remarkably like his own, he doubted very much he had created this one; 'green' was Father's way of communicating with him. He stood on his toes to retrieve the note and his heart almost stopped to read it.

GET OUT OF THE HOUSE.

There was a rumble that shook the house's very foundations, muffled shouting from outside that he didn't catch; why it caught his attention at all was beyond him, _the outside never came in_, he made sure of it-

0714. Edd looked up at the wall clock as time seemed to not so much slow as simply shift, glass and wood splinters spraying inward with the force of a high-grade explosive, overturning the kitchen table and throwing it across the room, along with the small refrigerator, and reducing the once-pristine counter tops to nothing but marble bits and fragments of wood-

Heat and fire surrounded him, a protective circle that blurred his perceptions until he opened his eyes a second later to find that the whole of the house, or at least what he could see of it, was ashen or burning, charred yellow scraps of paper (all those little reminders of things that didn't matter anymore) blowing in the hot wind, black smoke choking the air. Time shifted once more and all of a sudden he was standing in the decimated remains of his kitchen, trying to breathe through the rag against his face, picking over a fallen beam and trying to see in the dark, his body and mind on terrified autopilot.

"Double D!"

He flinched; it had been so long since he'd actually heard another human's voice, least of all directed at him... Was there someone else in this mess? Under normal conditions, Eddward knew the house so well he could traverse it without the use of lights. In a panic, however...

He crouched low, holding a hand to the side of his head as he fought to catch his breath and to stay conscious; blood had already soaked his arm, he didn't like to think _how._.. His ears rang, a dull ache at his temples, but he had to get up, he had to get out-

And then he remembered, his heart plummeting further, if that were at all possible- _Gas.._. The kitchen stove was on a _gas line.._.

Leaning heavily against the wall, he stumbled forward, searching for the exit, _any_ exit that wasn't blocked by seven-foot flames hotter than the third circle of Hell itself, or thick billows of smoke. Coughing and choking, he dodged into a passageway half-blocked by a burning door, another table-

(I wanted a way out as much as I had wanted to stay.)

He yelped and threw up his arms instinctively, crouching to make himself as minimal a target as possible as his forearms took the lash of fire that spilled from the ceiling... As much as he dealt with flammable or acidic compounds, he felt somewhat fortunate in the long sleeves and fire-retardant material that was his current outfit. Still, proof that the protection had not been designed quite with his current conditions in mind was telling, from the burns that he could feel materialize on his wrists and forearms...

The curtains had caught fire, billowing that foul black smoke, glass crackling underfoot...

He was trapped, and no less than ten feet from the back screen door.

He whimpered, as much from the sudden pain as the dark realization._ Flash-burns..._ Cradling his arms to his chest, he jumped back from the barrier of flames that barred his escape. "Help," he coughed harshly, though he couldn't help thinking it was too little, way to late, flinching as bright, dancing flames roared, as they licked at the ceiling, sought him out- if he didn't get out soon the whole house was going to come down on him...

**Why bother, no one even knows you're here... **

_Why... _He backed up, almost tripping over a collapsed bookcase, the contents scattered across the living room. Or what was left of it, anyway...

**Just close your eyes and let go, why fight? **

_...Why... fight...? _Edd smiled at his Death, forcing his eyes open even as his heart beat so hard in his chest he could almost hear it pound in his ears.

**You hid yourself away, remember? Who's to say there's anything outside that isn't exactly like this? **

_I was... scared. Scared of the outside, scared of the unknown, I didn't want to get attached, so I locked myself away until it made sense. Until there was no other way of being, because it was all temporary anyway... _

And then he recognized the voice that had called to him in the dark, despite having told the blue-haired girl to do precisely the opposite... How could he have forgotten?

**We can make you permanent. We can give you the solidarity you seek- just close your eyes and let go... **

Edd cocked his head, already reaching for the wall for support, flinching as he heard the tell-tale crack of another of the support beams above him... It hurt, _everything hurt_ and he was terrified as hell, but he had to try... He wouldn't die here, not again if he could help it...

Once more... Try one more time...

_I don't think so. If I give up, who will help the others? _

The other kids... _That's why I'm here_.

"Double D." Stupid... Why in the sam hill was he here...

"Ed." Edd's voice was raspier than usual, but he managed to formulate the word. Edd could feel his bangs push back, the back of his head resting against the wall he was slumped against. Acrid smoke pushed against his lungs, persistent and stifling... He didn't fight as strong arms gathered him up gently (even now the flames licked at him, as if by force of will the heat, the consuming fire, could drag him back), and Edd's eyes flickered open long enough to take in dark green, clouded as they were by smoke and blood and tears and darkness...

A/N: _Ooooh, sort-of-cliffhanger. Also, I HEREBY INVOKE LITERARY LICENSE-Y SHIT. This is TOTALLY how explosions work. _

…_Shut up. _

_I had a semi-drunk roommate beta this for me. He thought it was creepy, which was what I was going for... Marie and Ed ... and I think Rolf... are in the next chapter. As usual, read, review, and point out grammatical mistakes, pls. _


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